ted, as though
not expecting anything extraordinary. The Russian Consul took off his hat
and bowed with great politeness and the Count returned the salutation with
equal civility. Fischelowitz and Akulina stood in the background anxiously
watching events.

The lawyer also bowed and then, turning his face to the light, held his
hand out.

"You have not forgotten me, Count Skariatine?" he said, in a tone of
inquiry.

The Count stared hard at him as he took the proffered hand. Gradually, his
face underwent a change. His forehead contracted, his eyes closed a
little, his eyebrows rose, and an expression of quiet disdain settled
about the lines of his mouth.

"I know you very well," he answered. "You are Doctor Konstantin Grabofsky,
my father's lawyer. Do you come from him to renew the offer you made when
we parted?"

"I have no offer to make," said the little man. "Will you do me the honour
to indicate some place where we may be alone together for a moment?"

"I have no objection to that," replied the Count. "We can go into the
street."

They passed out together, leaving the establishment of Christian
Fischelowitz in a condition of great astonishment. The tobacconist hastily
produced his best cigarettes and entreated the Consul to try one, making
signs to the other occupants of the shop to return to their occupations in
the inner room.

"How long have you known Count Skariatine?" inquired the Consul,
carelessly, when he was alone with Fischelowitz.

"Six or seven years," answered the latter.

"I suppose you know his story? Your wife was good enough to inform us of
that fact, though Doctor Grabofsky has reason to doubt the value of her
information."

"We only know that he calls himself a Count." Fischelowitz held the
authorities of his native country in holy awe, and was almost frightened
out of his senses at being thus questioned by the Consul.

"He is quite at liberty to do so," answered the latter with a laugh. "The
story is simple enough," he continued, "and there is no reason why you
should not know it. The late Count Skariatine had two sons, of whom the
present Count was the younger. Ten years ago, when barely twenty, he
quarrelled with his father and elder brother, and they parted in anger. I
must say that he seems to have acted hastily, though the old gentleman's
views of life were eccentric, to say the least of it. For some reason or
other, the elder brother never married. I have heard it said that h